


And Another Thing....

by oOoElvenGloryoOo



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOoElvenGloryoOo/pseuds/oOoElvenGloryoOo
Summary: I just got mad about shems, y'all
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, cullen - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	And Another Thing....

The night air was sticky with humidity. It was the kind of night where paint won't dry right and clothes clung to sweaty bodies. 

Solas wiped his face with a handkerchief and opened the door leading outside, to let in some fresher damp air. Murmuring a spell, his hands glided over the threshold and air began to circulate, blowing a refreshing breeze into his work space. 

Skyhold was quiet for a summer's night. A few mages could be heard chatting upstairs, and faint music came from the tavern, but no loud partying from the Chargers or bawdy drinking songs sung in the courtyard by someone too deep in their cups. 

He peeled off his tunic, leaving the undershirt, and flung it onto the nearby couch. What was the new word Sera taught him? Yeet. 

Settling at his desk, he sighed, glaring in the direction of the Cullen's office. You know who he'd like to yeet right off the gods' damned roof. Cullen. Cullen who just a month ago had the Inquisitor fawning all over him. 

It didn't last, and by all rights, she was his now, but still. He saw how grabby Cullen got as he waked her back to the main building, purposely passing through his work room just to flaunt it. 

An elf mage with a human. May as well match a salmon with a bear. If the racism didn't get you, the internalized mage hate surely would. He snorted in disgust and took an ornate wooden box from the bottom desk drawer. 

He carefully ground the herb, and rolled it expertly in the thin, gum-edged paper sheet, before rolling another. It was a two joint kind of mood. He lit the first using the flame of his desk lamp. Inhaling deeply, he waiting for the comfortable, calm feeling to replace his pissy mood. 

Which worked for exactly five minutes, before Cullen knocked on the obviously open doorway. "Solas?" he asked as a form of greeting. "How may I assist you, Cullen". There. That almost sounded sincere. 

"Josephine said you'd have the requisition reports for me? That she'd sent them to you by mistake?" Cullen gulped nervously. "Yes, on the far table." Solas gestured dismissively. He could have let it go there. He didn't have to poke the bear. But also, fuck Cullen Rutherford. 

A flame from his index finger lit the second joint. "Care to join me, then?" he asked, on the surface the picture of politeness.   
"Oh, uh, no thank you. I don't do drugs." Cullen turned to leave, about to say good night.

"Any more, you mean." Solas grinned slyly. "Of course, we've all noticed the tremor in your hands, how you barely pick at your dinner plate. Lyrium must be a hell of a drug."

"The Inquisitor should have kept that to herself. I think I should be going...." Cullen took a step towards the door. 

"Of course, you'd need something stronger to live with yourself wouldn't you? The Rite of Annulment. Some of them are children, aren't they? Alone, scared, locked in a tower. Big scary men in armor coming at you, spilling your blood for what amounts to a genetic condition. I can't imagine how you templars sleep at night. Would you have done it to her, had she the misfortune of falling under your "care"? 

"Solas, have I offended you?" Cullen's awkwardness turned to visible anger. 

Footsteps padded swiftly downstairs. "Good evening, gentlemen! I see we're having quite a party down here. May I?" Dorian reached for the joint, taking a few hits before speaking again. "Solas, have you considered Miss Lavellan might enjoy a bit of herb too? She's much better company than this ol' boy here." Dorian smiled charmingly, hoping to smooth things over. 

"At least you are honest about your sins, Dorian. I can give you that. You try. You learn. But look around! Does it not strike anyone at all odd that our leader is an elf and yet our kind scurry about serving shems, with no one acknowledging the cognitive dissonance there? And he, that shem bastard, is the worst of them all. Cavorting with an elf mage as if there wasn't an inherently toxic power imbalance! If it wasn't for his necessary military expertise, I swear I'd....." No one had ever seen Solas pissed off before. Dorian was both impressed and amused. 

"I say, you're quite right, Solas. We should certainly look into all this. And Miss Lavellan doesn't want to cavort, as you say, with Cullen here. She wants to cavort with you. Why don't you and I take your magic box there to Miss Lavellan's quarters and pay her a visit?"

In the time it took to say that, Cullen escaped the situation, thankfully remembering to take the paperwork he'd originally came for. 

Solas had a face like a dog who knew their owner was fake throwing the stick the whole time. "Fine, Dorian. You're right. I just.....I get...." He sighed deeply. "I understand more than you know, Solas. I have....regrets about my own use of power, back home. Let's go find your lady, yes? Cullen has been thoroughly shamed and now, we may enjoy the night! You know, his hair looks a bit like butter noodles, doesn't it?...." Dorian's voice faded into the night as they made their way across Skyhold. 


End file.
